Ella
by KaterinaC
Summary: Have you ever wonder why Fairy tales end in Happily Ever After? Well, it's because "Ever After" doesn't all end happily. Especially not for Cinderella. Not for Prince Charming. Not for anyone, when Eugene and his "Saviours" have anything to do with it. But maybe everything will change when Cinderella and Prince Charming's Daughter decides it was time to change.
1. Prologue

They knew what was coming. They tried several attempts to stop them but nothing was working. They were just too small of a kingdom. There weren't enough soldiers to protect both their people and them at the same time. Everyone felt defenseless and scared for what was to come next.

Prince Charming and Cinderella stood next to the silk lavender cradle where their one-year-old princess was resting; unaware of the dangers that were about to come.

They looked at each other then back at their child, fearful for what would happen to her if something bad were to happen to them. They couldn't bear the thought of their child, their _only child_ growing up without them. But they couldn't bear the thought of her growing up behind prison bars, or even worse. They didn't have a choice.

"We don't have a choice." The Prince .

Cinderella rests her hands on her husband's cheeks as she gives him a reassuring smile, "I know, my love." She said, "We will see her again, I know we will."

He nodded, unsure of his love's words were to be true in the future but he didn't what else to say. There wasn't _much too_ say at the moment.

He picks his daughter, holding her, kissing her on the forehead knowing this would be the last time he will ever see her like this again. Tears fall from his face, almost regretting the decision that is made.

Cinderella takes their child from her husband. She could feel that he was reluctant to let her go, however - what had been said many times in her head- there just wasn't any other way.

"Now, go." She commanded, "Protect our people."

He kissed his daughter and Cinderella one last time before rushing to the front gates where the rest of his soldiers were holding down the fight.

Cinderella began to weep as she held her daughter close to her. She felt so defenseless, so useless at times like this. She couldn't even protect her own daughter.

She hears the doors open and saw that one of her servants, her _trusted servant_ had walked in. Cinderella walks up to her and hands her the child.

"Listen to me, Megan" She pleaded. Her eyes began to burl from the tear but she took a deep breath, she needed to say this. "You must take the underground tunnels and run away as far as possible. Take Ella with you. Take her to safety."

"But your highness –"

"NO!" Cinderella grabs Megan's shoulders, "I can afford to fight right now. If I leave now they will come and find me. But you. You can leave without anyone looking you. You can raise her and protect her like your own daughter. I know you will. Please go."

The servant paused for a moment but nodded. She rushed to the book case and open the door to the passage way. She looked back at her Queen, her eyes filled with sadness. She knew that she had to do this for her.

She ran as fast as she could, hopping not to wake the child. She would run as far as her leg could take her, away from the dangers of the castle. Little did she know that once she had left, the rebels had barged in the room taking Cinderella, knowing that they had won their fight.

 **N/A: Hello everyone how was the Prologue? If you find a story called Ella's story you think its the same will it is the same. It's mine fanfiction when I was 13 so I end up changing a few things here and there so don't be alarmed. I'm not trying to copy anyone!**


	2. Chapter 1

Ella gave her award winning smile to her customer before she sets their food on the table. "Here you are, Sir, Madam. Have a great day."

They thanked her as she began to walked to the back counter. Her smile slowly began to into a frown as she reaches the back counter of the bar. This was not how she wanted to spend her 16th birthday. Her plan to head to the festival with her friends then head far away from the commotion but just close to hear the music so that she could have just one more dance before she couldn't do for another year. However, she didn't plan on the festival to bring more people from the border of the kingdom to come. Now the restaurant had been packed since noon and she had been working hard ever since.

Ever since Ella could remember she has lived with her Aunt Meg and Uncle Davis. When she was old enough to walk she has been working at the restaurant she had been helping around the restaurant that Meg and Davis owned since their parents passed it down to them. She loved working here; meeting the people, cooking and laughing with her friends that also worked at the restaurant. But there are days – days like this – she wished that could just get out of here.

"Aw, Ella. Turn that frown upside down, birthday girl," Uncle Davis declared.

He placed his index fingers on either end of Ella's mouth and stretches it upwards. She could feel his fingers were still damped from washing the dishes causing her to move away. Her frown came back as she threw her apron onto the counter then pulled her black hair into a low ponytail.

"How can I be happy?" she asked, "I know you need me here because rush hour isn't over yet and I love working here." She took a deep breath. "But you know I wanted to enjoy the last day of the festival."

She leaned onto the back counter then sides all the way to the bottom of the floor, tucking her knees under her chin. She was acting childish and she knew it. But she didn't know how any other way to act.

Uncle Davis checks his watch before he placed his hand under his chin, thinking for a moment.

He smiled, "Well it's 5:00 and the festival don't end 7… So, why don't you spend the next the two hours doing... whatever teen these days do."

Ella faced glowed with excitement, "Oh thank you, Uncle Davis!" She threw hands around him and hug him tightly.

He laughed, hugging her back, "Woah there… When then you get this strong? I swear yesterday you weren't able to carry two plates in your hands."

Ella chuckled as she ran upstairs to quickly change. She pulled out her favorite blue dress. The one that people say matched her eyes. She put in on and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked at her face when she did, she thought about her parents.

Aunt Meg told her that her parents were burnt in a fire when Eugene and His "saviors" came to overpower the King and Queen. Before they reach the palace they burnt homes that they knew still believe in the farmers. She wished she knew them. I wanted to know about them but it was just too painful for Aunt Meg to talk about.

 _This my mother's hair?_ She thought as she let her hair down, brushing them with her fingers.

 _Are these my father's eye? Did I get my mother's personality? Did I get my father's ambition?_

Aunt Meg told her everything would change on her 16th birthday. She knew it meant she got to know her parents. That Aunt Meg was ready to talk.

But that didn't matter right now.

She ran downstairs and ran out the front door. It was too late to call her friends and head to the festival but there was one thing that she could do.

As she thought, the main market place was empty, everyone was at the festival, enjoying the last moments of it. There was always a big dance where King Eugene would watch his subjects. It was a moment once a year that people forgot their problems. Once the new day had come they knew that the King would work the lower and middle classes to the bone. His Saviors would beat and treats them like pets. Most of t them would starve to death before the next festival.

Ella didn't want to think about that. She hears the music as she closed her eyes. Her feet began to match the beat. She twirled and leaped and posed. Her body felt like she was dancing on cloud. Her feet would only touch the ground of a second before jumping once again. When she stopped, the smile on her face grew bigger but was quickly fade when she began to her the sound of someone clapping.


End file.
